Hollowed
by Faeline
Summary: Vincent/Tifa. This is the way the world ends.... Snippets from Nibelheim onward.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:**Hollowed  
**Rating:** Teen  
**Genre:** AU  
**Summary:** This is the way the world ends...

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**_Shape Without Form, Shade Without Color_**

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_Our dried voices, when  
We whisper together  
Are quiet and meaningless  
As wind in dry grass  
Or rats' feet over broken glass  
In our dry cellar_  
"The Hollow Men" ~ T. S. Elliot

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In the early days of his sleep, he had become accustomed to the comings and goings of the scientists, accustomed to the strange sounds that emanated down the hall from his room, the whir of machines, the footsteps, and the conversing voices.

And then they had all faded.

And for a time his sleep remained uninterrupted by any presence other than the rats that shared the cellar. Days, Months, or more passed; he could not be certain when, from the place of his dreams, he felt the house stir around him with the nuances of human sounds, of human emotions.

_You can smell her, can't you?_

Be silent. Be still. His words were not spoken but pushed firmly against the entity sharing his form.

_I certainly can. It's such a familiar stink. You must be accustomed to it by now. That sharp edge of longing. Unrequited…love… You, humans…_

The voice subsided as shuffling came outside the door; the sound of a key manipulating the old tumblers made his ears twitch despite the fog that still lay over his conscious mind. Footsteps neared and the sudden loss of the coffin covering surprised him more than it should have, the cool air hitting him with such force that he opened his mouth and drank it in like water.

**~*~**

The rest of the group accepted his presence easily and with little fuss when they returned that afternoon, aside from a bit of frivolity from Yuffie as she immediately transformed Vincent's name to a short derivative. He hung near the outskirts of the group for a time, content to take in the faces as he attempted to match each to the swarm of voices in his ears.

And then he caught her scent and heard the soft sound of her voice at his elbow as she spoke to the group.

_This is the one._ Chaos' voice was strong and clear. Much more so than it had been in the days before Vincent's sleep.

_How she longs. And the boy has no clue. Seems a shame to let such a young thing waste herself on want. Perhaps you could..._ The voice dropped to a whisper. _It's been so long… Just a taste. _

The tingling of the change moved under Vincent's skin and he caught his breath at the sudden shift in his vision that put the dark haired fighter in sharp relief against the backdrop of the kitchen. And now he could see the blood fusing her cheeks as she moved toward Cloud, the pulse fluttering in her throat…. He could press his lips to it. Catch the flutter on his tongue. Bite down—ever so gently—until the skin split with precision and spilled—

Vincent shuddered and turned in the doorway moving out into the sitting room and toward the window furthest from the kitchen.

_You are still a coward, Vincent Valentine._

"I will not debase myself to your desires," he spoke aloud but his voice was so low it was barely a whisper.

_Splitting hairs a bit finely, aren't we? My desires are yours. Yours mine. We are one, Valentine. Deny it all you like._

"Let me be."

_Were it not for me, the others would rule you. Soon you won't have to worry about them at all. Vile things they are, really. No grace. No eloquence. Certainly no taste for the finer things in the world… Think on it, Valentine. Three demons less. _

"I would rather it four."

_I ask for little. And I can teach you. Show you how to use your enhanced form to its utmost advantage. Get you all that you wish. All you desire._

"I wish for nothing."

_Nothing? Vengeance is nothing? Was Lucrecia nothing? And what of her... The dark lilac—the little fighter? _

Vincent closed his eyes and concentrated on the voice of Chaos, imagining the svelte form of the demon, the feel of it as it took over his body, the eyes he'd glimpsed in the mirror when he'd had the occasion to look before he was locked in sleep. He imagined pushing it away, locking it behind a mental wall of iron, and hiding the key to the cell inside a book in his memory of the ShinRa Mansion library.

Chaos sighed, disgust evident in his long breath.

_For now, Valentine. Be as you will. You can't hide from me._

Vincent breathed out in a slow sigh and leaned against the windowsill.

"Vincent?" Her voice was tentative, but she stood closer to him than he felt necessary. "We have lunch ready, if you'd like to come and eat…."

Turning and opening his eyes he saw here there, a little brighter and with more detail than human vision would allow, but no longer was she so sharply defined against the colors of the room.

"Thank you. I will be there momentarily."

"Great." She gave him a bright smile and turned to leave the room, hair twitching over her hips like something alive, wafting the scent of lilacs toward him.

He passed a hand down his face, cupping the scent to his nose and mouth and, with one more deep and even breath, headed for the kitchen.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Hollowed 2/?  
**Rating:** Teen**  
Genre:** AU**  
Author's Note: **Dear readers, I honestly don't know where this goes or how it will end. I began writing the story a few years ago. Stopped. And recently came across it again and decided to post what I had finished. (I figured it may as well be out there for someone to read and, hopefully, get some entertainment value out of.) I hope you enjoy it. Lastly, because I, as a reader, hate to be left hanging, I want to issue fair warning: I don't know when or if there will be a "finished" piece.  
**Summary:** This is the way the world ends...

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**_Under a Fading Star_**

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_This is the dead land  
This is the cactus land  
Here the stone images  
Are raised, here they receive  
The supplication of a dead man's hand_  
"The Hollow Men" ~ T. S. Elliot

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She came to him the night before they entered the Crater.

He'd sensed her presence as he sat before the fire checking and cleaning his weapons. She'd stood watching him for a moment, the steady movements of his hands as he oiled the Quicksilver and wiped it down with a soft cloth, before she came out of the darkness, a quilt from the barracks of the Highwind wrapped around her body, doing little to keep out the chill. Shivering, she sat on the ground near him, eyes focused on the fire but occasionally flickering to watch him.

Vincent could see her eyes taking in the angles of his face as he concentrated on his weapons. She was always watching him, stealing quick glances when she could. Glances she thought he didn't notice. She'd been observing him since he joined the party in Nibelheim. It didn't surprise him. The others watched him too, though not nearly as close as she.

And he'd be lying if he said some part of him didn't enjoy her eyes on him… There was a certain satisfaction in her observations, as though his most miniscule movements were of the greatest importance whether he was seeing to his weapons or refastening the clasps on his cloak after a transformation…

She was, in point of fact, the only one who saw him transform in the midst of battle. The others, he noted, made very sure to keep their eyes turned away when those low growls began escaping his body, right before he would throw off his cloak, right before the wings split his skin.

She'd seen it all before. And hadn't shied away…

He paused for the breath of a moment before sitting aside the Quicksilver and picking up the Death Penalty. The firelight glinted off the gun barrel. He began again the process of cleaning. "Can you not sleep?"

Tifa jumped at the sound of his voice, low as it was.

"No, I…I think I've gotten all that I can…"

"It's early still. You'll need your rest for tomorrow." He picked up the cloth and stroked it across the body of the gun.

"Aren't you tired?" Tifa asked.

"I don't sleep much."

She heard the unspoken "anymore" at the end of that sentence and turned her body, leaning her arms against the length of stone on which Vincent sat.

"And you're not afraid either, are you?"

Vincent flicked open the chamber, flicked it closed, passed the cloth once more over the gun and holstered it.

"Why would you think that?"

"You're so calm."

"Would you rather I paced? Indulged in hysterics?"

She tried to imagine such an outburst from Vincent and felt a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. "I'm terrified. Afraid of losing someone, everyone. More than I'm afraid of failing. That's kind of stupid isn't it? If we fail…we're all lost anyway."

She shivered again, the tremors traveling throughout her body. There was a quick breeze and a new layer of warmth enveloped her. She glanced at Vincent to see him now black against the blacker night, the only color gracing him his golden arm and bandana. His cloak lay wrapped around her shoulders.

"Thank you."

He gave a single almost imperceptible nod of his head. "It won't help to dwell on what hasn't yet happened."

"I know…" Her fingers moved over the buckles on the collar of the cloak. "Vincent…"

She always said his name like that. Half a whisper. As though she were afraid to speak it too loudly. He could practically see the way the word formed inside her mouth, the roll of vowel and consonants over her tongue. How did his name taste to her, he wondered.

"Yes?"

"What do you think will happen tomorrow?"

"You mean, do I think we'll 'win?'" Tifa lowered her head. "I am not given to the notion that good," the word sounded strange to him, "always triumphs over evil."

Tifa nodded.

"But," he continued, "neither do I underestimate the value of strength and talent in numbers. We have," he lifted a broad stick with his claw and prodded the embers, making the fire flare hotter than before, "as good a chance at defeating him as he does us. Perhaps a little more."

"You're refreshing, you know."

He turned to her now, quirking an eyebrow.

"Cloud…would have given me some big motivational speech. He would have tried to make me feel better." She laughed softly. "You tell me like it is. As you think it is. Not how you hope it will be. I like that…."

"There are a few hours left until sunrise…."

"I'm fine where I am."

Vincent turned his attention back to the fire, feeling her eyes linger on him.

Some time later he heard Tifa's breathing even out in an easy sleep rhythm. Her head lay pillowed on her hands and she had snuggled even further into his cloak; only the upper portion of her face was visible to him. She murmured something in her sleep. Something that sounded like a name. His name.

He stiffened and watched her but she didn't speak again.

Raising his eyes to the sky he could just pick out the telltale signs of dawn coming in the blue hues that were appearing over the mountaintop. The end of the journey was drawing near, whatever end that might be.

30 years… Lucrecia…

Would tomorrow prove enough?

He glanced at the sleeping girl next to him then back to the fire's center.

It would have to be enough.

**~*~**

The sights and sounds of a world fighting back is not something one easily forgets.

When Holy disintegrated throughout the sky, Vincent felt the planet shake, felt the sigh of earth, and wind, and water, and watched as those tiny particles of life he'd glimpsed in the observatory at Cosmo Canyon began to worm their way through the soil, slithering over the lips of the great Northern Crater and trickling down from the distant trees like so much water.

All but Cid stood on the outer deck of the Highwind watching the streams swell against the night, against the dark tide of the ocean far below them, moving quickly toward that cankerous metropolis on the opposite shore.

Tifa stood next to him, hands clinging to the side of the air ship, knuckles white with the pressure of her grip.

They watched as Meteor descended in a flaming ball toward the city of Midgar and the life stream rose up to meet it.

As the two met a burst of energy shook the airship and her knees, weak from anticipation and the battle, gave out, pitching her forward against the ship's rail.

Before she could topple over the side a firm arm wrapped around her mid section. Turning, she saw the sharp metal fingers of Vincent's left hand dig into the wall, creating an anchor as he wrapped his other arm around her and lifted her on his hip away from the edge; he held her tight against him, cradling her body in the shelter of his own as the air currents pummeled the ship.

Together they watched the world across the sea crumble.


	3. Chapter 3

**Title:** Hollowed  
**Genre:** AU  
**Rating:** Teen  
**AN:** This one's cut shorter than the others.  
**Summary:** This is the way the world ends...

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**_Eyes I Dare Not Meet in Dreams_**

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_In death's dream kingdom  
These do not appear  
There, the eyes are  
Sunlight on a broken column_  
~"The Hollow Men" - T.S. Elliot

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30 years of sleep had dulled neither his natural instincts nor those given him by the fumbling science of a madman. He knew it was only a matter of time before she sought him out again and standing in this little valley, downwind from the rest of the group, he was able to fixate on her scent before she drew close, that blend of lilac and light sweat coupled with the more private heady scents of womanhood.

The first time he'd caught the heavy aroma of copper he'd asked if she were wounded. The look she'd given him had prompted his clarification. _I can smell blood on you._ She'd turned away from him, blush staining her features, and he'd then realized the faux pas.

Now, he tried to politely ignore the scent that would be imperceptible to any other man but called out to the demon ingrained within the cells of his body. He could feel Chaos rising like a storm, wanting so much to take hold of young and untouched skin, to take the taste of life on his tongue. Strangely enough, Chaos' desire was not to hurt, nor to humiliate. It was something entirely different. Something even the demon himself could not put into thought or word.

Vincent pulled his cloak tighter around him and turned his face to the morning breeze.

"Vincent?"

She stepped close behind him. The heat from her body trickled along his spine.

"Cid said you're going back to Nibelheim?"

"Yes."

"Where will you stay?"

"The ShinRa Mansion."

"Vincent? What…" She stopped and considered him. He could feel her eyes on his cheek, warm with curiosity and worry. "How can you…"

"It is the last place I knew…" He caught her eye and saw something there that he should have suspected. "I am not returning to stasis. You need not worry. I have no desire to spend another thirty years in sleep."

"I didn't think—that..." Tifa's mouth quirks; her version of a sardonic smile. "Barret's told me I get too involved in people's lives." She turned away. "But…I wanted to ask."

Vincent raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"Would you mind if I came with you?"

He wasn't sure, but he might have blanched because Tifa's face shadowed and she turned away.

"It's just, I can't go back to Midgar. What's left of Midgar…. Not yet. Nibelheim," she paused, "It was my home and I haven't been back since…"

"You will stay at your family's home?"

Tifa nodded. "Not sure for how long."

"I have no objection to your company."

Tifa grinned. "That's a resounding welcome coming from you."

He could feel his lips twitch in an alien way. Not quite a smile, but close enough. Tifa looked as though she were about to say something else but was cut off by the sound of the Highwind's blades stirring the grasses around them and Cid's cigarette roughened voice echoing over the ship's loudspeakers.

"Hey! This rig's movin' out. Your asses wanna be on it!"

Tifa glanced at the ship, rolling her eyes, then gave Vincent a half shrug and followed in the wake of the other stragglers just making their way on board.

Vincent cast one more look around him, the grasses flattened from a combination of the Life Stream's violent reaction the day before and the Highwind's presence, the ruin of the northern crater, empty now save for the creatures that lived deep in its shadows.

If he were a different man, this might have been the moment he offered a prayer of thanks or one asking for benediction.

Checking the Death Penalty in its home against his hip, he turned and walked toward the airship.


End file.
